


Christmas Drabbles (Multiple)

by trycatpennies



Category: My Chemical Romance, Panic At The Disco
Genre: Drabbles, F/M, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, Waycest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-11
Updated: 2011-05-11
Packaged: 2017-10-19 06:49:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trycatpennies/pseuds/trycatpennies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of drabbles, rated g through nc-17</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas Drabbles (Multiple)

prompt: spencer/jon, gingerbread house  
rating: G

It's actually three days after Christmas when Jon comes home with the box. It's sitting on top of the other groceries, piled on top of the carrots and the mac and cheese. It's totally innocuous, until Spencer points it out and Jon turns bright red and pulls it out.

"It's a gingerbread house," he says, and Spencer raises an eyebrow. "It was only two dollars, and it was on sale and I just-"

He trails off, and Spencer moves towards the bags of groceries, peering inside. After a few seconds he looks up at Jon, disapproving.

"Is that a complete kit?" He asks, and Jon looks at the box, and then back at Spencer, shaking his head, a confused look on his face.

"You didn't buy candy. You need something to decorate it," Spencer says, sighing. Jon opens his mouth to say something but then shuts it, looking frustrated and embarrassed. "Hey, hey," Spencer says, coming forward and touching Jon's face gently. "It's fine. We've got leftover Halloween candy that we hid from Brendon. It'll be an awesome multi-holiday house!" He finishes, and Jon smiles sheepishly.

-

prompt: bob/alicia, doggy style (alicia/mikey)  
rating: nc17

 

When Mikey catches them, she's pressed against the mattress, her face buried in a pillow and Bob's hands are pulling her hips back against him, his dick slamming into her from behind.

Mikey's surprised noise is loud enough that they both look at him, and Bob's breath stutters as he comes, and Alicia just watches Mikey, moaning a little.

Mikey licks his lips and Bob pulls out of Alicia, and there's no condom (doesn't have to be, she's on the pill and they're both clean), and cleans himself up, puts his pants back on and walks past Mikey, out of the hotel room and closes the door behind him.

Alicia doesn't move, just keeps her head facing Mikey on the pillow. She's still on her hands and knees, and even in the dim light of the hotel room, Mikey can see how wet she is.

But he can't move, not until.

"Mikey, please," she begs and he walks over, pulls his shirt off and climbs on the bed, kneeling behind her and bending down, licking at her cunt.

He can taste her, and Bob's come. He's already hard in his jeans. He licks the taste of his best friend out of his wife's cunt and wonders if this is more or less fucked up than anything else he's ever done.

-

prompt: waycest, ride  
rating: nc-17

 

Mikey gets high on coke and audience.

He pins Gerard to the bed in the hotel after the show, pins him and leaves a ring of hickeys, bites hard to hear Gerard moan and keen and tell him to stop.

But he won't stop.

He undoes Gerard's pants, pulls off his own shirt and jeans and slides down, no prep, no lube, because the coke masks the burn and the pain feels better than anything else.

He's afraid if it didn't hurt, he wouldn't feel it.

He let's Gee control it, let's him wrap strong hands around Mikey's hips and thrust up, but it's not enough and soon it's Mikey who's got Gerard's hands pressed into the mattress, bones in his wrists grinding together, leaving bruises they'll ignore tomorrow.

He rides Gerard hard, lifting his hips and slamming back down, till Gee comes and Mikey comes, leaving traces of it on Gerard's chest.

He leaves, still buzzed on coke and looking for more, leaves Gerard lying there, naked, eyes closed, looking all the world like the most fucked up beautiful thing he's ever seen.

-

prompt: ryan/my chemical romance, touring shenanigans  
rating: pg-13?

 

Ryan is on the bus with them, in the bunk under Cortez's and fuck, he's still trying not to feel like a fucking interloper.

He wakes up early every morning and makes coffee (because what better way into the hearts of My Chemical Romance but coffee) and then drinks a cup and sends an email to Spencer from the kitchenette table, his laptop keeping his hands warm because it's old and heats up too fast, but he loves it.

It goes on like this for three weeks before someone wakes up before he manages to get back to his bunk and curl up, and Mikey slides in across from him, one hand curled around his cup of coffee, his sidekick in the other. He's texting, but he finishes as he sits and he slides the sidekick closed one handed and sets it down, looking up at Ryan.

"Thanks for the coffee," he says, and doesn't look away. Ryan's used to this. To being pinned by Mikey's looks, because Mikey notices more than any of them, and he notices Ryan probably most of all. Mikey's good at making sure the things he knows he can break are ok.

Ryan nods and then looks back at his computer, finishing up his email in silence and sending it off. Mikey doesn't speak till Ryan's closed the cover of the laptop and finally meets his eyes.

"You don't have-" Mikey starts but Ryan shakes his head.

"It's not that I have to. I want to. You guys are," he pauses and looks down, tearing his eyes away from Mikey's face. "You're good to me. I want to be good back."

Mikey doesn't mention the hotel nights with all of them, or the way Bob leaves bruises on Ryan's hips, or the way Gerard keeps giving Mikey guilty looks when Ryan walks into the room. He doesn't mention that it's only been three weeks and none of them can imagine not having him on tour, as fucked up as it is.

"You're you, Ryan. That's enough."

Ryan looks up and meets Mikey's eyes, briefly, before shrugging.

"Yeah. Thanks."

Mikey sighs and looks up, checking the clock. It's just past six and no one will be up for an hour, at least.

"Come to bed?" Mikey asks, and Ryan nods, before following Mikey to his bunk and curling up next to him, his breath warm on Mikey's neck.

-

prompt: mikey/alicia, doing the dishes  
rating:

r

 

Alicia drops her her knees by the kitchen sink and blows him to stop him from doing the dishes.

It's an ongoing challenge, one of them cooks and the other cleans, but tonight Mikey cooked and now he's trying to clean, and fuck Alicia's fucking sick of it, so she does the first thing that comes to mind when he goes for the dishsoap.

"Oh, shit, Lish," he says, and he leans back on the counter, the water splashing off the dish he dropped in the sink spattering the back of his shirt.

She looks up at him and wraps her hand around the base of his dick and jerks him off while she runs her tongue over the head and his eyes are wide, he can't stop looking at her. She pulls back, but keeps jerking him off.

"Look, we had a deal," she says and he raises an eyebrow, his mouth open and panting. "We were supposed to switch off on who cooked and who cleaned. There's no way you get to do both."

He starts to speak, but she slides her mouth back down onto him, deeper than before, and sneaks her other hand back, behind his balls. When she slides a finger into his ass he comes, gripping the counter so hard his knuckles go white.

She stands back up and watches him try to get it together, his hair falling in his face and sweat forming on his forehead. He takes a deep breath and looks at her, shaking his head.

"Ok, so. You're the worst wife ever," he leans in and kisses her, and she grins, pushing past him to start the dishes.

"Yep. Go watch TV, asshole."

-

prompt: brendon/spencer, (no prompt given: wikipedia random article generator: highway 35)  
rating: g

 

They spend the first Christmas of the Nothing Rhymes With Circus tour in Wisconsin, driving down Highway 35. Four hundred and twelve miles of road through smallish towns and bigger cities that none of them know the name of, but Brendon learns by reading street signs at three in the morning when he's too awake to sleep and too tired to do anything else.

Spencer finds him sitting on a seat in the back, humming under his breath but otherwise still, head against the glass of the window.

"Brendon," he says, and Brendon's movement is slow, lethargic. It's like he's been there long enough to grow roots. Brendon looks up at him and smiles. "What're you doing?"

"Watching the world go by, Spencer Smith," Brendon says, and Spencer's surprised at the note of sadness in his voice. It surprises him more than the lack of energy, though that in itself is worrisome. Brendon, even at his most tired, is three times the handful any of the rest of them are.

"Are you ok?" Spencer sits next to him and Brendon shrugs, before letting his head drop to Spencer's shoulder.

"It's Christmas. Don't you miss people?" It's a flat out accusation. Spencer's the only one with people to miss.

"No, not really. I'd rather be here. Do you miss people?" Spencer asks, and he forgets that this is Brendon, that maybe he should watch his step, tread more carefully. But Brendon doesn't snap, doesn't retreat. He sort of nudges at Spencer's shoulder with his forehead until Spencer looks at him.

"No," Brendon says and he half smiles, sad and guilty and Spencer gets it.

"You don't regret any of it, do you?" Spencer says, and Brendon drops his head back down. "That's why you're out here at three in the morning, because you don't miss them."

Brendon tangles his fingers with Spencer's.

"I'd rather be here," he says, and Spencer stays awake with him till they leave Highway 35.

-

prompt: spencer smith, genderswap  
rating: pg

 

It doesn't actually bother him until Ryan stops talking to him and Jon and Brendon won't stop.

"So what bra size did you end up being?" Brendon asks, and Spencer just glares.

"I mean, at least you still fit into your pants. Did you switch from boxers to girly shit?" Jon asks and Spencer sighs.

"And I mean, it's been two weeks since you woke up a girl, right? Do you think you'll like, start 'that time of the month-'" Brendon starts, but Spencer walks off, because jesus. He can only take so much of the two of them.

He walks to the back of the bus, and Ryan's sitting with his lyric notebook. He's curled up in corner of the couch, a pen between his teeth, tapping out rhythms and counting syllables in his head. Spencer's seen him do this forever, knows what Ryan's thinking, he never has to say it out loud.

"You stopped talking to me," Spencer says, finally, and Ryan doesn't answer right away. He finishes counting the line he's on and looks up, pulling the pen from his mouth.

"I don't know what to say to you anymore," Ryan says, and he sets the notebook down, like he knows this has been coming, like he has all the answers ready in his head.

Spencer doesn't think either of them do.

"Yeah, you do. You just can't tell yourself it's wrong anymore," Spencer says, and he's glad he's standing across the room, because he watches Ryan's face go from open to closed in less than two seconds, and all he wants to do is hug him.

"What are you talking about?" Ryan's voice is guarded, but Spencer knows him too well, and he can hear the panic underlying the denial.

"We've been dancing around this for years, and the only thing stopping you was the fact that I had a dick, Ryan," Spencer says, and Ryan flinches, almost unnoticeably. "And now I don't."

"We're not having this conversation," Ryan says, and he stands up, but Spencer's between him and the door, and he can't push past. He hasn't touched Spencer since- "Besides. You're going to turn back."

"What if I don't?" Spencer says and Ryan sighs.

"I'll find some other reason."

-

prompt: frank/gerard, vacuum  
rating:

pg

 

"There are motherfucking pine needles everywhere," Gerard says, when Frank walks in. Gerard's on his hands and knees, with a plastic bag open on the floor next to the Christmas tree they'd put up, decorated with paper ornaments they'd made themselves, and Starbucks ornaments that Gerard had insisted on buying, and a few real glass Christmas balls that Frank's mom had insisted they take.

"You know, I know I said you have a mouth like a hoover, but we do have a vacuum." Frank says, and he drops into the couch, watching Gerard pick up pine needles from the carpet.

"Asshole," Gerard says, but he sits up and back on his heels. "You could help."

"Nope. Better view from up here," Frank says, and he leans back, smiling as Gerard makes an annoyed face and kneewalks closer.

"You're lucky I love you," Gerard says, sticking out his tongue when he gets close to Frank.

"I know I am," Frank says, and he smiles, kissing Gerard.


End file.
